Azriel woke up drenched in sweat, a searing pain in his leg.
Where was he? Underneath him he could feel the earth, clad in soft grass.
Outside somewhere?
He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were almost too heavy to lift. Gradually they opened, and he could see the blue sky through small gaps in the leaves overhead.
A forest?
His head slowly turned, sending a jolt of pain through his neck. His entire body was so stiff, like he'd just woken up from the longest slumber.
The pain his leg seared up again, and he pulled it to him, out of the sun.
How did he end up here?
He hadn't the faintest clue. Shaking his head he tried to recall the events of the night before.
There was a tavern… Yes, he had gone out to celebrate. And then… Foggy memories came through him, depictions of a woman in the night… And after… There was nothing, just darkness. Nothing but all encompassing darkness, enveloping him from all around.
Was it a nightmare? Had he drank too much? The thought sent shivers down his spine. It wasn't good to fall unconcious here in the middle of the woods, all alone with no protection.
His hand instinctively moved to his hilt, but found nothing.
There was nothing there!
His eyes turned to look where his sword should've hung in it's scabbard, but there was truly nothing there.
Things were only turning more mysterious by the second.
Had he lost it? It was a possibility. No matter what, he had to find it quickly.
Groaning, he used his arms to stabilize himself, as he pushed himself up to stand upright.
His body was still stiff and creaking like an old man's would.
His eyes scanned the surroundings and spotted a glimmer of metal. His heart raced as he moved as quickly as his feeble body allowed him.
He brushed off the leaves of the unknown metal object and saw his sword. Yes that was definitely his sword, he would recognize it anywhere.
Given to him by his parents when he had gotten into the Royal Academy, right before they had passed away. There was no doubt that it was the very same.
Smiling, he used his pants to clean it before resheathing it where it belonged.
That was a breath of relief, so he had just lost it in a drunken stupor after all.
With matters taken care of, he looked around to find out where he was, and recognized the place immediately.
He had walked this route all too many times, and quickly found his way back to the road.
It seemed like he had been on his way home, when he'd stumbled into the forest instead, maybe getting lost or something. He didn't know, but he felt a lot better now.
Stepping onto the road, the sunlight shone directly down on him, and he felt a searing pain in his whole body.
Was this what a hangover felt like? It was the same pain that had been in his leg, it felt like the sun was burning him up.
If this was what drinking brought, he swore he woudl never drink again.
It was unbearable and he started sweating even more. Not daring to waste anymore time outside in this blazing heat, he started the trek home. Thankfully he'd gotten quite far yesterday.
…
As he came upto the Royal Academy, the guards looked at him strangely, but let him in without asking questions. It wasn't their job to, and they had known him for five years by now.
Entering his room in the dorms, Azriel almost felt like just collapsing ontop of his bed. But he thought better of it, and decided to head to the washroom to clean himself up first.
In front of the sink, he came face to face with himself, suddenly realizing why the guards had been eyeing him so strangely.
There was dried blood around his mouth, running down to his chin, and a bit had dripped onto his shirt too.
"Strange…" He muttered, turning on the facuet and cupping some water in his hands. As he washed his face, he mentally thanked the magician's guild for the running water.
It truly was a luxury few people, or places, enjoyed.
Satisfied with the cleaning job, he took off his clothes and threw them in the hamper where he kept all his dirty clothes.
Walking over to the bed he laid down, thankfully it was a sunday, and the Squire's and trainee's had the day off. He had no more energy for anything at all, and fell right into a blissfull long awaited sleep.
…
Visions of a beautiful woman came to him in his dreams. She spoke to him, whispered things that he couldn't hear.
She came closer to him, cupping his face in her hand, once again whispering something that he just couldn't make sense of.
Slowly she leaned in closer and he could see two of her teeth growing longer, and sharper too, like fangs. She smiled and moved her mouth towards his neck, willingly he moved his own head to the side to give her better access. And then he felt it, his neck punctured by two fangs as blood began to flow.
Azriel woke up with a start, horror on his face as he dripped with sweat and the clammy sheets stuck to his wet body.
What time was it? He looked out the window with a start, it had already turned dark.
That woman had come to him again in his dreams, disturbing his sleep. Was it a reoccuring nightmare? He wasn't a religious person, but it was still starting to feel like a bad omen.
Before he could contemplate further, he was pulled from his thoughts as his stomach growled and he felt the hunger.
It was unbearable, like he hadn't eaten a single thing in weeks.
He put his hand on his stomach and clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the hunger. But it only got worse.
He needed something to eat right away.
His hand fumbled down besides his bed where he usually kept a spare bit of bread in a basket.
The Royal Academy cafeteria was only open at certain hours, so he needed something in his room to tide him over at times where he couldn't get anything else.
He found a bun, and voraciously bit down in it, eagerly chewing the stale bread. It tasted even worse than usual, but at the same time it was such a sweet relief, helping to relieve some of his hunger.
He ate three buns he had lying around, and while they had helped out with the hunger a bit, there was still a slight hunger nagging at him.
Not that he had any more buns, but he didn't even have an appetite for anymore anyway. It was like he needed something else, he felt a desire for it, but couldn't quite determine what it was.
With the hunger taken care of as best as he could, he crawled out of bed. He still felt a bit sluggish, but it was a lot better than he had felt before sleeping.
Looking out the window again, he didn't know quite what time it was. The magician's guild had built things such as clocks, but they were rare, and certainly not placed in a 15 year old Squire's quarters.
He shrugged his shoulders, determining it to be somewhere in the middle of the night. It didn't matter too much, the bell would ring when the students were supposed to get up.
Grabbing a spare set of clothes, he quickly put it on and headed towards the communal bath.
…
Azriel was enjoying a nice warm bath, all by himself. Something that was quite a rare occurence.
Usually there were quite a few other students when he came by, but naturally no-one else wanted to take a bath in the middle of the night.
He enjoyed the silence for a little while, just relaxing in the water and letting all his chaotic thoughts go by.
When he felt satisfied, he got out and dried himself off with a fresh towel taken from one of the racks, and then chucked it in the nearby hamper when he was done.
The Royal Academy took care of such necessities, so the student's didn't have to worry about it. Uniforms were even washed, so the student's time could be spent on other things.
Of course that also meant someone would have to wash his bloodied clothes, but he didn't think much of it. It wasn't uncommon for Knight Trainee's and Squire's to be hurt, and there really wasn't all that much blood.
Once again feeling calm and centered, he put on his clothes and headed to the training hall, deciding to get in a bit of practice before everyone else woke up.